


Hafnos (Midsummer Night's Eve)

by golden_bastet



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 02:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_bastet/pseuds/golden_bastet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That's why they call him The Cow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hafnos (Midsummer Night's Eve)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [msmoat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmoat/gifts).



“You know, Bodie, that tree’s supposed to be 4,000 years old.” Doyle gestured at the yew gracefully spreading over the graveyard of the church they were watching. Hot summer eve, out on a far-ranging obbo chauffeuring their boss to a clandestine meeting at this church.

“Nothing’s that old,” his partner replied. “Well, maybe the Cow.”

Doyle snorted. “He’ll hear you, you know.”

“Meeting will have started by now, he won’t be listening to the R/T.”

“The meeting hasn’t started yet, Bodie, and I can hear every word you’ve said.” Cowley’s clipped tones sounded from the dashboard. Doyle guffawed a bit.

“Sorry, sir. Meant that with complete respect, of course.”

“Yes, I’m sure you did, Bodie. Just be sure to keep your eyes alert while I am in the meeting.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Doyle – it’s 3,000 years, not 4,000.”

“Yes, sir.” Doyle was suitably chastened.

“Ah - the meeting is starting now, so – radio silence until I let you know I’m done.” The R/T crackled once more, then fell silent.

Bodie checked the radio, making sure that the microphone was off. “Wonder what it’s about this time. A little far for the normal, and I wouldn’t expect much to happen in a Welsh churchyard. Though he does this every so often, doesn’t he?””

“No idea. The minister is part of the PM’s trip to the States, Cowley just got back from the joint agency security meeting two days ago. Haven't seen any vehicles, though that doesn't necessarily mean much. But whoever it is, you have to admit – pretty ingenious to have the meeting here.”

Bodie peered up at the massive spread of the tree’s foliage. “Well, as long as it doesn’t take too long. S’hot here, and I could do with a pint with this weather.”

“And I’m sure the local talent’s just waiting for you to appear and make their lives complete.”

“Well, I’m not selfish, Doyle – quite willing to have you along, and I’ll share. Will even step back a bit and give you a chance.”

“No, no, Bodie; I will make sure that my natural magnetism doesn’t spoil your chances. Wouldn’t be fair otherwise, mate.”

A rebuttal hadn’t quite made it out of Bodie’s mouth when the R/T crackled back to life. “Bodie! Doyle! I’m done. Come up to the church now.”

“Yes, sir; we’ll be right up.” Bodie turned the key and the ignition roared to life. He turned to Doyle. “Well, whatever it is, it’s over, and we’re on our way. The fair maidens of this village will have to wait until next time.”

“Here’s hoping they don’t wilt from the suspense in the meantime,” Doyle snorted.

The car tyres spun on the gravel, and they went to collect George Cowley.

Said George Cowley stood at the doorway, watching the car swinging towards him. July 31st. Everyone focused on All Hallows Eve, but both days were critical. And it’d been close, but he’d managed to prevent Angelystor, the Recording Angel of Death, from claiming his agents, his people, his _flock_ by reading out their names. He’d have them at least for that much longer.

But then, that’s what cows did. Protect their young. Even if had been only 3,000 years.

**Author's Note:**

> With apologies to the [legend of Angelystor](http://www.bbc.co.uk/wales/history/sites/themes/society/myths_angelystor.shtml). I wrote this in far fewer minutes than it should have taken. :D
> 
> Just something that came up as I was wandering around the interwebs reading about old trees, LOL.
> 
> Unbetaed, not Brit-checked, written way too fast, but - posted, at least. In fact, if you want to help me with the Welsh, I won't complain. ;-)
> 
> ETA: And now with Real WelshTM! With many thanks to Moonlight Mead.


End file.
